


The Stolen Future

by Falka_tyan



Series: "Numb" Universe [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caning, Corporal Punishment, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Consensual, Paddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Spanking, slavery has been abolished recently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falka_tyan/pseuds/Falka_tyan
Summary: Flynn and Marcus are two ex-slave boys who work for their past owner and live in his house.Slavery doesn't exist in their country for two months; why can't Flynn and Marcus have a happy new life like all the other ex-slaves seem to?Written as a side-piece for my fic "Numb". It's a Shiro-centred Voltron fic and it would be great if you read it first before starting on this work. But I guess this can be read as a stand-alone work, too.





	The Stolen Future

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my dears!
> 
> For those of you who wait for a Keith-centred fic in the "Numb" Universe I've promised to deliver - I haven't forgotten about it, but I don't have the mind for such a major work right now. Instead, I give you this one-shot with two totally new boys.  
> This work tells a story of two young slaves who have to live through the big changes. For Keith, Lance and Hunk from the main work, the changes have been relatively easy to take - Shiro has done everything to ensure that. Unfortunately, not everyone was this lucky.  
> Aside from narrating about the slave's fates, I also wanted to give a glimpse into the work of the state services who supervise the process of freeing slaves and preparing them for the new life.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Upd. 14.06.19 - now with a Glossary for a better understanding of this world!  
> Check here: [Facts about the "Numb" AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193626/)  
> 

Flynn watches his friend Marcus enter the house they live in from the entry path. Flynn hesitates; he desperately doesn’t want to go in there, doesn’t want to get swallowed by the gloomy mundanity. The dutiful Marcus already shouts at him from the inside to hurry up – they have things to do!

Flynn doesn’t speed up his steps. Not out of spite, no. There’s just nothing of importance inside – how can Marcus not see that? How is he not as fed up with this house and its owner, Mr Stuart, as Flynn?

On the porch, Flynn turns his back to the entrance door and looks up at the high and blue summer sky. He stares and stares until the clouds cover the sun from view and the wind gets colder. Then, at last, Flynn enters.

Today, he doesn’t know how to label what he feels - he just knows that he feels strangely detached from everything. He is not sure what to make of his life anymore.

What is there to it now?

The slavery in their country has been abolished by the new monarch two months ago, which makes Flynn a free person. He is 18, he is strong and healthy. He has the same rights as any other citizen, and he can make his own choices. He could be anywhere else this moment, do what he wants (or what he doesn’t hate, in the very least). He could become someone, out there. Someone self-sufficient and respected, someone brave and independent.

The next thought makes pain shoot through his chest: away from this place, Marcus could become someone, too.

Their lives can still change, reminds Flynn himself. It’s not the end of the world. He and Marcus, they can leave Mr Stuart any day. They can choose to stop working for him. They can quit and then they can go wherever - they could just run away from civilization while it’s still summer. They’d travel the roads on foot, sleep in a tent under the stars, see some pretty lakes he’s seen in books or even the sea. When they’d get tired of nomadic life, they’d ask for shelter in the closest city’s ex-slaves camp. They could choose a profession - they are both smart enough to become salespersons or mechanics, or even hairdressers. Marcus would make a fine stylist even, Flynn thinks. He’s always been good with scissors - all other slaves let him cut their hair since forever. Marcus also has good taste in clothes. Flynn himself would prefer to work with machines, not with people, if possible, but he would gladly do the same as Marcus, if there were no other choice. Flynn is adaptable. As long as they stay together, it’ll all be fine. If only Marcus would… Ah, Flynn scolds himself inwardly, he’s promised himself not to go there again. It only makes him angry, thinking about all those possibilities, lost to Marcus’ rigidity. Flynn makes himself take a deep breath, counts to ten and tries to calm the fuck down before he starts with his tasks of the evening. He doesn’t need additional anger to pile up - goddess forbid he’ll take it out on Marcus one day. Flynn won’t be able to make peace with himself afterwards.

It is already so much better than before, Flynn tries to persuade himself while he dusts the shelves in the corridors. They go to school every weekday; no collars, no leashes, no supervision. They even have the keys for the front door. They manage to complete the assignments for school in time and do all the housework every day just fine - now that Mr Stuart no longer lives in his grand manor, it’s quite easy. Mr Stuart, their ex-owner and now their employer, even jokes that these crazy fees for former slave owners have done him a good service - he’s finally left the creepy family house behind and moved to the city. He may not have gained enough courage to sell the old wreck otherwise, says Mr Stuart.

Flynn remembers being a little surprised when he heard this joke for the first time - he couldn’t believe that of all things, Mr Stuart would be bothered by his own childhood home. Flynn assumed that Mr Stuart couldn’t care less.

Actually, Flynn thinks that Mr Stuart’s life must be incredibly boring. Must be so exhausting - to go through the motions every day and not feel anything about it. Back in the past, when he has been bought to work at the manor, Flynn was always on high alert around Mr Stuart (what slave in their right mind wouldn’t be?). He tried to notice every little detail, everything that makes Mr Stuart tick, just to be on the safe side. But it’s turned out that very few things did. Mr Stuart isn’t (no, wasn’t!) a demanding owner. He believed though that every slave needs regular discipline, no matter how good they work.

Flynn did himself a disservice with all the concentrated observing. He didn’t find any magic clues, he only managed to dig out all Mr Stuart’s little flaws. Turns out, he didn’t really want to know.

But everything about Mr Stuart seemed relatively harmless until Marcus came along.

The present-day Flynn wants to slap his past self for the naivety. Mr Stuart is as far from harmless as they get, and his ugly soul makes him a very ugly person.

From the first glance, he’s your average man. He has regular facial features: a straight nose, high cheekbones, a wide forehead. His lips are a bit on the thin side. All of that would be OK, if not for his eyes. Flynn should have guessed what a rotten piece of shit he is just from looking Mr Stuart in the eyes. They are so dull and lifeless. They never gain any sort of expression. Even when life throws at Mr Stuart unpleasant choices or something extraordinary happens in front of his eyes, his gaze stays the same. Sometimes, though, he shows a little bit of interest in such trivial life situations as quarrels or fights. If that’s the case, Mr Stuart pauses his current activity and watches dispassionately; as if he doesn’t really care but would like to see how the tension resolves anyway. Like watching ants run around their destroyed ant-hill.

Marcus hates it when his ex-Master looks at him, says, that it makes him feel like a curious little insect, not a human being. Flynn doesn’t feel as strongly about that. 

Despite all the hate, Flynn realises that they were comparatively lucky to have been bought by Mr Stuart. Flynn has met enough slaves and heard enough horror stories about wickedly cruel owners over the years to know this.

It doesn’t make staying in his house and working for him now any more reasonable. All other slaves have left on the first day they could - and never came back. Not that Flynn misses any of them; he only ever cared about Marcus. But the others did the right thing, while Flynn and Marcus couldn’t, and every reminder about it drives Flynn up the wall.

 

 

Marcus is Flynn’s blessing and his curse.

Every week, Flynn debates with himself whether he should just leave Marcus be and go away alone. Go to the city and be free. Catch a car on the highway, move from region to region until some well-meaning state-worker catches him and makes him stay in one place, become a proper new citizen.

And every week, right after the thought of fleeing comes to Flynn’s mind, he immediately imagines Marcus crying himself to sleep and asking his pillow why everyone always leaves him behind, how he is so bad that even his single friend would run away without him. Then Flynn’s helpful imagination supplies him with the image of Marcus waking up screaming, and no one is there to bring him water and hug him. Flynn shudders and wills the pitiful pictures away - he can’t bear seeing them.

He asked Marcus to leave with him so many times; he begged him, he tried to persuade him with logical reasons - all to no avail. Marcus is so scared of the outside that he can’t even realize that there might be hope for them. That the only hope for them lies in the outside world.

 

Flynn knows that this is a trap.

On his bad days, Flynn tells himself that if he stays in this house just a little bit longer, he’ll become the same way as Marcus - perpetually scared, unable to see more than his everyday misery. But even then, Flynn can’t help but imagine Marcus undressing and laying over the couch’s arm under the steely stare of Mr Stuart, like he has to every week, but this time, with no one to hold him through it, alone and desperate in his suffering. Flynn only has to think about it briefly, and he breaks. Week after week, every time after the thought of running away crosses his mind he thinks about Marcus, and he breaks.

It means that everything stays the same and each next Saturday finds Flynn and Marcus waiting for their weekly spanking in the living room of Mr Stuart’s house.

 

This Saturday is not an exception. As every week before that, it all goes the same well-known path. They all gather in the living room, take their respective places and the spanking starts. Mr Stuart is very casual about the boys’ weekly discipline. There are no moralist speeches, no accusations, no unnecessary pathos. Just his instruments and their pain.

First, Marcus gets the hairbrush and the paddle. Mr Stuart likes to say that such a round, plump ass like Marcus’ needs to be treated with all due respect. Flynn holds Marcus’ hands in his lap and counts aloud.  _ One, two, three _ …  _ Twenty _ . It’s never more than twenty, thanks goddess. Marcus takes each stroke like a champ: he becomes pliant like dough and lies very still. He’s a good boy. And Flynn? Even after all these years, Flynn can’t learn to relax his butt under the cane. Mr Stuart usually tsks at him and shakes his head in disapproval. Every time, he adds five more lashes for disobedience to Flynn’s punishment.

Mr Stuart always starts on Flynn with the flogger (those warming strikes don’t go into the count) and only then goes for the first, lighter cane. Marcus, meanwhile, has to sit on his freshly-bruised bum and hold Flynn’s hands (and soon, his whole upper body, too). Marcus also calls out the numbers for Flynn. Marcus sniffles and takes shuddering breaths between each word, but the counting never stops. Marcus doesn’t cry, not in front of his executor. This is, maybe, the only thing that Flynn envies Marcus for.

Flynn can take the first seven or so strokes without breaking the position. But that’s about it. After the ninth one, he starts wiggling his butt a little. This is when Mr Stuart comments on his half-hard cock, mocks him for it, takes a guess that maybe Flynn likes it when he gets caned. Flynn tries to ignore Mr Stuart, tune him out. More often than not, he succeeds. To achieve that, Flynn concentrates on the feeling of Marcus’ hands on his shoulders, how they are so warm and tender in contrast to the forceful impact of the rattan, or listens to Marcus’ breathing, follows his tiny whimpers and barely-there sobs. Actually, Flynn likes being this close to Marcus - they don’t really cuddle much outside of that. It’s a very special brand of intimacy – them sharing their pain with each other. It’s as if Flynn and Marcus are in their own little world – because no outsider can truly understand, no outsider can give them support and affection they crave from each other in this moment.

After the twelfth strike, Flynn can’t control himself anymore. It hurts so much; every blow seems to cut his butt in halves. Flynn starts stomping his feet and sliding off the couch then. He tries to break Marcus’ hold on him and run - anything to avoid the pain somehow - but this can’t be allowed by any means, and Marcus uses his superior body weight to overpower Flynn and make him stay in place. Consciously, Flynn knows that if Marcus lets him escape, they are both in big trouble. But he can’t lie still when his ass stings and burns! After the fight drains out of him, Flynn ends up half-lying in Marcus’ lap, held tight across his back, his hands clenched into fists in Marcus’ jeans. Flynn can’t help himself - he always cries during his spankings and hates himself for that later. He’s so pathetic. Thankfully, his cock usually goes limp by the fifteenth blow. That’s a relief - Flynn has heard about boys who could come during a spanking. He can’t imagine anything more humiliating than that.

By the time when Mr Stuart takes the heavier cane and the final five blows of the initial twenty start (don’t forget the additional five for breaking the position), Flynn is reduced to begging. He doesn’t think about anything by that point. There’s only pain and Marcus' unrelenting grip on him and the comfort of Marcus' body under him. Flynn’s ass dances under the lashes like mad. All that keeps his mind afloat is Marcus’ touch, Marcus’ warmth. By the end of this torment, Flynn can’t even make out the numbers, drawled by his friend above his head. He is too busy hiding his face in Marcus’ crotch and wailing.

When it’s over, Marcus is allowed to go back to his duties and has to retreat to the kitchen while Flynn, the undisciplined one, has to kneel for ten minutes in the corner of the living room, with his pants below the knees and his striped ass on display. Flynn knows that Marcus would gladly kneel next to him, share this part with Flynn, too, but it’s not allowed, so Flynn has to bear the humiliation alone.

He knows that Mr Stuart would leer at him this whole time. Marcus says, their ex-owner would just stand there and stare at Flynn’s bright-red behind, sometimes sporting a lopsided grin out of the blue, as if something funny suddenly came to his mind while he was watching Flynn coming down from his terror.

 

At night, Flynn and Marcus would lie together in Flynn’s bed. That’s the only day when Marcus doesn’t protest against sleeping together. Flynn’s ass is properly covered in a healing salve. There won’t be a trace of the welts the day after tomorrow, promises Marcus.

This is the nice part: Marcus holds him close, pets his hair, whispers little nothings into Flynn’s nape. No one has ever been as tender and patient with Flynn as Marcus. No one has cared about Flynn enough to soothe his pains and wipe away his tears before Marcus. Marcus is so kind to Flynn; Flynn won’t trade it for anything.

At the same time, Flynn can barely stop himself from thinking bitterly of how Marcus wouldn’t have to see him cry and comfort him, have they already left this house and this man.

This particular night, Flynn has half the mind to beg Marcus to leave tomorrow, again. But he refrains from that. He knows how it’ll go: Marcus’ eyes will get big and empty; he’ll start whimpering and crying, then he’ll back himself into the very corner of the bed and start swaying from side to side, hugging his knees. When Flynn will try to get Marcus to look at him, Marcus will just stare without really seeing him and repeat time after time: “He will take me back if I leave Mr Stuart! I  _ can’t _ go back, he’ll hurt me! Please, don’t make me go!”

Flynn would readily kill the man from whom Mr Stuart has bought Marcus if it would help his friend forget. But he is too powerless for that; also, he is sure it won’t help to heal Marcus at all. Though Flynn wishes death upon that man. A horrible, slow, painful death so that the sick fuck that hurt Flynn’s friend would pay at least for a small part of his sins.

And, at such times, Flynn wishes the same fate upon Mr Stuart. That cold, cunning man who’s told Marcus on the day when the slavery has been abolished: “What do you think, boy, will your ex-owner miss having you by his side as terribly as I will?”

Flynn didn’t pay much attention to that phrase, but then Marcus stayed to work for Mr Stuart, and Flynn stayed by his side.

A week before all the other slaves have left, Flynn overheard Mr Stuart saying to Marcus:

“You know why you ended up here and not somewhere in the old pervert’s basement? I liked how your ass looked under the lashes when I visited him, so I've won you in a card game. It took me three attempts and I've lost a pretty sum of money in the process, you know. You should realise that I don't make your life half as tough as the old man did. He loved making you bleed, as I recall. You've even gained some weight in my care, as I can see. I don't starve you here, now do I? No, of course, not! Who knew you'd become such a chubby little boy as soon as you put your hands on real food? But I like that plumpness on you. Makes your ass a perfect aim for my paddle.”

Flynn has nearly gagged when he listened to Marcus thank Mr Stuart for his kindness.

If not for Mr Stuart’s taunting, Flynn is sure, he would’ve been able to make Marcus leave. But Marcus wouldn’t listen to Flynn, couldn’t get the meaning of Flynn’s words past his misguided defence mechanisms.

There are entirely too many “ifs” and “buts” in Flynn’s life.

 

 

The next Thursday, an unannounced inspection from the Department of everything slave-related visits their house. They do regular check-ups on all slaves who’ve stayed to work for their previous owners. That’s the new order.

Flynn wants to tell them everything. He knows that this is his chance. He’s been waiting for an opportunity like this one all this time. He can’t let these people in uniforms go away without revealing the truth about Mr Stuart! Flynn almost makes up his mind… but then, reflexively, he searches for Marcus with his gaze and sees that his friend is white as a sheet. When their eyes meet, Marcus shakes his head “No!”, silently pleading Flynn to stay mute.

One second, Flynn is full of adrenaline and hope, the next he is devastated.

Flynn is so used to doing as Marcus asks. Doing what Marcus needs. Nothing changed with people in uniforms flooding their living room.

Despite his now depressive state of mind, Flynn opens his mouth several times with the intention to still tell the truth while the state inspectors are in the house … and then closes it. Who is he kidding? He can’t make himself betray his only friend’s trust. He can’t!

As per rules, one of the inspectors (a woman) asks both Flynn and Marcus to go to their room and undress so that she can check their bodies for traces of abuse. Marcus, the bastard, refuses to take his clothes off, claiming he’s too shy. The inspector just leaves him be, to Flynn’s immense surprise. Flynn wants to curse so badly. Why do they have to be so polite when Marcus’ asscheeks hold all the evidence they need – Marcus’ tender ass still bears yellow-and-green bruises from the previous paddling!

Oh, Flynn isn’t shy. Flynn won’t even try to pretend - he doesn’t care. He takes his pants and his shirt off without a fuss and lets the woman do her job. When the inspector checks his fresh and rosy butt for bruises, Flynn feels a hysterical laugh bubble up in his chest. And here he thought that nothing else will get a rise out of him today.

Fuck Flynn’s quick metabolism and Marcus’ magic salves!

As expected, the woman in uniform finds nothing incriminating. She thanks Flynn for his cooperation and lets him get dressed again.

The inspection leaves in twenty minutes. When Flynn sees the door close behind them, he realises that this is it. Now he’s lost his chance to get free from this life, for sure.

Flynn knows he won’t be able to say anything at school - Marcus will hold him back just the same as usual. He is stuck here. He’ll clean and move the lawn and dust and put things in order for Mr Stuart while Marcus will cook for him for the rest of their lives. Marcus will go with him to the lessons, and learn things, and never use those things because he’ll never grow out of his fear and will never go anywhere he could use them. They will get beaten on Saturdays, heal their wounds over the week, and then the vicious circle will repeat itself.

The resignation of a strange nature falls on Flynn, making his movements sluggish and his thoughts fuzzy.

Flynn doesn’t notice that he’s crying until Mr Stuart smirks at him. For the first time in his life, Flynn lets his anger get the better of him. He storms off to their room and shuts the door with a bang. He doesn’t care what it’ll cost him. 

For the duration of the evening, Flynn lies on his bed and stares into the ceiling. His head is empty and he can barely feel his heartbeat.

He could fight Mr Stuart come Saturday, speculates Flynn lazily. Maybe, Mr Stuart will just let him be. But what if Mr Stuart fights back? Flynn knows that he’s skinny and will be easily defeated by such a tall grown-up man as their ex-owner. He would’ve still given it a try if not for Marcus. Marcus will get catatonic from fear if Flynn causes such ruckus. So Flynn will do nothing, as always.

( _ he would’ve been away from here if not for Marcus wouldn’t have to endure it all wouldn’t be here would be fine _ )

The voice in his head telling him to run gets so loud that Flynn has to hide his head under the pillow and scream until his lungs give out.

The next day, Flynn doesn’t fulfil his chores at home. He doesn’t listen at school. He feels numb and hopeless all day. He barely answers when Marcus talks to him. It’s so silly how Flynn is enduring all this shit because he loves Marcus more than anything, but at the same time, he is so angry at Marcus for holding him back that he can’t even bring himself to talk to Marcus out of fear of telling Marcus all that he really thinks about him.

Flynn’s life is a big joke. Goddess hates him more than all her other children.

 

 

On Saturday, Flynn doesn’t feel any usual fear. When the time comes, he sits down on the couch and takes Marcus’ proffered hands in his. He hasn’t said a word to Marcus today, aside from “Good morning” and “Thank you for the meal”.

The hits start and Flynn counts them mechanically.

_ One. _

Flynn wants to feel vindictive, wants to feel some sort of schadenfreude because of Marcus’ current suffering - see, you’ve brought it on yourself with your stupidity! - but nothing comes.

_ Two. _

_ Three. _

Flynn is just as stupid as his friend. One word at school - and Mr Stuart will get arrested. But Flynn continues keeping silent, doesn’t he? He deserves this punishment as much as Marcus does, if not more.

_ Four. _

_ Five. _

_ Six _

....

Flynn isn’t even sure at what number he is, so far away his mind is from reality now, when someone bursts into the entrance door.

The next time Flynn blinks, his lap is full of shivering Marcus and the living room is swarmed with uniforms of all colours.

A young woman (is it the Thursday’s inspector? she looks different in the police uniform) answers calmly to the indignant Mr Stuart:

“We are within our rights, Sir. Mr Fennel has allowed installing hidden cameras in houses of former slave owners when the Department has a reason to suspect abuse of ex-slaves. You will be now brought to the police station where my colleagues will explain your rights to you. Excuse me now, I have to talk to these young men.”

With that, the woman comes to Flynn and Marcus. She smiles at them and says something. Flynn doesn’t catch it. To his surprise, he hears Marcus answer her. Flynn concentrates his attention and hears the woman say:

“...I promise you, that man won’t hurt either you or your friend. I will personally see to that. If I’m not mistaken, he’s already in prison, waiting for his sentence.”

Flynn feels Marcus relax in his arms. Is this all it takes, wonders Flynn? Just her words? Marcus will listen to her, but not to him? A brief burst of anger courses through Flynn, but he’s too exhausted to keep it up.

Instead, Flynn tries to listen to the conversation. It filters through the fog in his mind in hints and snippets.

The woman asks them something. It seems that she wants to know whether they want to stay in the house for the night or go to the camp. Flynn doesn’t have an answer for her.

But, as it turns out, Marcus does.

“We need to leave. Flynn hates it here.”

Flynn is aware that his mouth is gaping. Marcus continues:

“We should have left two months ago. But I was so scared that I refused to.”

The woman looks first sad, then angry. Then she schools her face back to the friendly neutrality.

“Follow me to our car, then. I’ll bring you to the refugees-centre. It’s heavily guarded. From now on, consider yourself in the capable hands of Mr Fennel. Anyone who so much as lays a finger on either of you will pay dearly.”

Upon saying that, she smiles so wide and happy that Flynn starts envying her trust in this Mr Fennel. His life would be so different if he could look up to someone the same way this woman does to her apparent boss.

In the back of the police car, Flynn asks Marcus whether he’s heard anything about this Mr Fennel.

Marcus looks at him as if Flynn is a total dummy.

“It’s our Governor. He’s friends with the new monarch. On his first day of service, he has killed a slaver who has kidnapped her ex-slaves and tortured them, with his bare hands!...”

Marcus gets more and more agitated with each sentence. Flynn appreciates his enthusiasm, but this is too much info for him to handle right now, so he only pretends to pay attention. He’s too exhausted to do much more than just lean on Marcus and listen to his voice.

The engine starts and soon Flynn is lulled to sleep by the smooth motion of the car. In his slumber, he can hear Marcus whispering to him that they’ll be alright, that Marcus will take care of him, that no one will hurt them from now on. The last thing Flynn thinks about before the darkness takes him completely is how this inspector is the first person who ever respected Marcus’ privacy and how she also is the only person to come back for them and save them.

Then Flynn just sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> It was painful and, at the same time, rewarding to write this story.  
> Rewarding - because I believe that the state can do its work well and help society become healthier, and here the police officers together with social workers do the good thing and help real people.
> 
> Please, tell me what you think in the comments! Especially if you have opinions on the personalities of Flynn and Marcus!
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> You can talk to me on Twitter [Falka-tyan](https://twitter.com/FalkaTyan/)  
> or on Tumblr [Falka-tyan](http://falka-tyan.tumblr.com/)


End file.
